VOL. XIV.

OCEAN CITY, N. J., THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 1895.

NO. 42.

Ocean City Sentinel.

PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT OCEAN CITY, N. J.

BY R. C. ROBINSON, Editor and Proprietor. $1.00 per year, strictly in advance. $1.50 at end of year.

Restaurants.

MARSHALL'S

DINING ROOMS

FOR LADIES AND GENTS.

No. 1321 Market Street,

Three Doors East of City Hall, PHILADELPHIA.

STRICTLY TEMPERANCE. MEALS TO ORDER FROM 6 A. M. TO 8 P. M.

Good Roast Dinners, with three Vegetables, for 25 cents. Turkey or Chicken Dinners, 35 cents. Ladies' Room up-stairs with homelike comforts. PURE SPRING WATER. OPEN ALL NIGHT.

Attorneys-at-Law. MORGAN HAND, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Solicitor, Master and Examiner in Chancery, Supreme Court Commissioner, Notary Public, CAPE MAY C. H., N. J. (Opposite Public Buildings.)

BAKERY, 601 South Twenty-second Street. Ice Cream, Ices, Frozen Fruits and Jellies. Weddings and Evening Entertainments a Specialty. Everything to furnish the table and set free of charge. NOTHING SOLD OR DELIVERED ON SUNDAY.

LAW OFFICES SCHUYLER C. WOODRULL, 310 Market St., Camden, N. J. JONATHAN HAND, JR., Attorney-at-Law, SOLICITOR AND MASTER IN CHANCERY, Notary Public, CAPE MAY COURT HOUSE, N. J. Office opposite Public Buildings.

Considerate. Mr. Bouncer--What did you get on to that table for? You're surely not afraid of a harmless little moise. Mrs. Bouncer (weighs 200 pounds)--I got up here because I was afraid I might step upon it and hurt it.--New York Journal.

Physicians, Druggists, Etc. DR. J. S. WAGGONER, RESIDENT Physician and Druggist, NO. 731 ASBURY AVENUE, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Pure Drugs, Fine Stationery, Confectionery, Etc., constantly on hand.

DR. WALTER L. YERKES, DENTIST, Tuckahoe, N. J. Will be in Ocean City at 656 Asbury avenue every Tuesday.

C. E. EDWARDS. J. C. CURRY. DRS. EDWARDS & CURRY, DENTISTS, Room 12, Haseltine Building, Take Elevator. 1416 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.

A Narrow Escape.

Jules Curie of Juneau, Alaska, is one of the few men who are able to tell how it feels to be buried alive, from experience. He was living at the time at New Westminster, B. C. One morning he had gone into a restaurant and ordered his breakfast when all of a sudden he fell dead. At least that is what the doctors said of him, though he was conscious of what was passing around him all the time. He was laid out for burial, and his friends kept the usual vigil over him. He was put into the coffin and borne to the cemetery, all the time realizing the terrible fate that was soon to overtake him, but unable by word or sign to do anything to prevent it. He was lowered into the grave, but happily, as the first clod rattled on his coffin, he began to feel the blood pulsating at his heart, and his powers returned to him. He found that he could move his hands and began to hammer on the coffin lid and call for help. The startled pallbearers stopped shoveling dirt into the grave, while the majority of those gathered at the grave fled away as for their lives. He called again, and one courageous friend jumped into the grave, and unfastening the coffin lid, Carle was taken out feeling as well as he ever did in his life.--New Orleans Picayune.

The truest help we can render an afflicted man is not to take his hardship from him, but to call out his bad energy, that he may be able to bear the burden.

Preaching and Praying. The minister admonishes us to watch and pray and then goes and then preaches us all to sleep.--Washington Hatchet.

H. M. Sciple. J. M. Gillespie. H. P. Sayford. H. M. SCIPLE & CO., DEALERS IN Boilers and Engines, Every Size for Every Duty, DUPLEX STEAM PUMPS, Third and Arch Sts., PHILADELPHIA, PA.

WALLACE S. RISLEY, REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENT, 413 MARKET ST., CAMDEN. Properties for sale and to rent. Money to loan on Mortgage.

PETER MURDOCH, DEALER IN COAL and WOOD, Ocean City, N. J. Orders left at 806 Asbury avenue will receive prompt attention. D. S. SAMPSON, DEALER IN Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, PUMPS, SINKS, &C., Cor. Fourth Street and West Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Tin roofer and sheet-iron worker. All kinds of Stove Casting furnished at short notice. Gasoline Stoves a specialty. All work guaranteed as represented.

Y. CORSON, DEALER IN FLOUR AND FEED, No. 721 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Contractors and Builders. S. B. SAMPSON, Contractor and Builder, No. 305 Fourth St., Ocean City, N. J.

Jobbing promptly attended to. Plans, specifications and working drawings furnished.

JOSEPH F. HAND,

ARCHITECT, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER, Ocean City, N. J.

Plans, Specifications and Working Drawings furnished. Estimates given on Application. Satisfaction guaranteed.

Nicholas Corson,

CARPENTER AND BUILDER, OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Estimates given. Plans and Specifications furnished. Buildings put up by contract or day.

G. P. MOORE,

ARCHITECT, BUILDER, AND PRACTICAL SLATER, Ocean City, N. J.

Best Roofing Slate constantly on hand.

GEO. A. BOURGEOIS & SON, Carpenters and Builders,

OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Estimates given. Buildings erected by contract or day.

D. GALLAGHER, DEALER IN FINE FURNITURE, 43 South Second Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA.

L. S. SMITH, CONTRACTOR IN Grading, Graveling and Curbing. PAINTING BY CONTRACT OR DAY. Eighth St. and Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Bakers, Grocers, Etc. JACOB SCHUFF, (Successor to A. E. Mahan,) THE PIONEER BAKERY, No. 706 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Fresh Bread, Pies and Cakes daily. Wedding Cakes a specialty. Orders delivered free of charge. Nothing delivered on Sunday.

Plumbers, Steam Fitters, Etc. J. T. BRYAN, Practical Plumber and Gas Fitter, No. 1007 Ridge Ave., Philadelphia.

Circulating Boilers, Sinks, Bath Tubs, Water Closets, Lead and Iron Pipes, Pumps, Etc., furnished at short notice. Country or City Residences fitted up in the best manner. Sanitary Plumbing and drainage a specialty. Orders by mail promptly attended to.

Plasterers and Brick-Layers. W. STONEHILL. G. O. ADAMS. STONEHILL & ADAMS, Plastering, Range Setting, Brick Laying, &c. All work in mason line promptly

attended to.

OCEAN CITY, N. J.

HARRY HEADLEY,

OCEAN CITY HOUSE, 717 Asbury Avenue.

PLASTERING, BRICKLAYING. Ornamental Work of Every Description. All kinds of cementing work and masonry promptly attended to.

McCLURE, HERITAGE & CO., Successors to Finnerty, McClure & Co., DRUGGISTS AND CHEMISTS, 112 Market Street, Philadelphia.

Dealers in Pure Drugs, Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Oils, etc.

ISRAEL G. ADAMS & CO., Real Estate AND Insurance AGENTS, Rooms 2, 4 & 6, Real Estate & Law Building, ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. Commissioners of Deeds for Pennsylvania. Money to loan on First Mortgage. Lots for sale at South Atlantic City.

ROBERT FISHER, REAL ESTATE AND Insurance Broker, CONVEYANCER, COMMISSIONER OF DEEDS, AND NOTARY PUBLIC. Agent for the Aetna Life Insurance Company, of Hartford, Connecticut, and some of the oldest and best Fire Insurance Companies of America.

What's the matter with Ocean City? She's booming, that's all. New water supply system; new electric street railroad; electric lights; new hotels; new cottages; new tenants and new guests; every-

thing is on the jump, and Fisher is rushing the business.

Call and see him, and put your money in Ocean City be-

fore things get up to the top notch.

Fisher is one of the few pioneers of Ocean City and among its first Real Estate purchasers and Cottagers, intimately associated with all its history and identified with every step of its progress and the operation of its Real Estate, has extraordinary opportunities for the transaction of all kinds of Real Estate and Insurance business.

FOR RENT--Having very extensive and influential connections, he has superior advantages in bringing those who have properties to rent and those who require them together, and at present has some of the finest cottages and other houses on his books at liberal prices. FOR SALE--Long experience and personal dealing in Real Estate has made him expert in values of both improved and unimproved property. Occasionally even in such a prosperous town as ours some one wants to change or get out. Then we help them by helping some one else to a bargain. From Ocean front to Bay, and all between, you can be suited with fine corners or central building lots. A few cottages, new and well built, now offered at cost. Write for information of the Lot Club. Headquarters for every househunter and investor, Fisher's Real Estate Office, the most prominent corner in Ocean

City.

Insurances placed on most advantageous terms in best

companies.

For any information on any subject connected with any business enterprise write freely to Robert Fisher, Ocean City, N. J.

TREATMENT BY INHALATION! 1529 Arch St., Philad'a, Pa. For Consumption, Asthama, Bronchitis, Dyspepsia, Catarrh, Hay Fever, Headache, Debility, Rheumatism, Neuralgia, And all Chronic and Nervous Disorders. It has been in use for nearly a quarter of a century. Thousands of patients have been treated, and more than 1,000 physicians have used it and recommended it. It is agreeable. There is no nauseous taste, nor aftertaste, nor sickening smell. We give below a few of the great number of testimonials which we are constantly receiving from those who have tried it, published with the express permission in writing of the patients. "Please accept my sincere gratitude for the restored life of happiness and health and vigor and usefulness that the Compound Oxygen has certainly given me. "While I was always considered to be a healthy child, I was known to be dyspeptic from babyhood. It was inherited. For two years I was confined almost constantly to the lounge. For more than four years I did not know a moment free from pain. All this time dyspepsia continued its ravages, except when temporarily relieved, and aggravated other serious disorders. "My friends and physicians thought I would not recover. To-day I am entirely cured of dyspepsia, can enjoy articles of food that I never dared use before in all my life. For the past year I have been up and going in ease and health, with sufficient vigor to take some part in domestic work of the most laborious nature. As my strength continues to improve, since leaving off Oxygen, I feel that I can conscientiously recommend the treatment, not only to cure (provided the doctors' directions are observed), but to be lasting in its beneficial effects. "MISS JAMIE MAGRUDER, "Oak Hill, Florida." "The Oxygen Treatment you sent me for C. O. Harris, a year ago, one of my missionaries from West Africa, whose life was in jeopardy on account of lung trouble and a severe cough, he now testifies has greatly benefited him. He has entirely recovered his health, married a wife, returned to his work in Africa, and taken his wife with him. Bishop WILLIAM TAYLOR, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y. "Compound Oxygen..Its Mode of Action and Results" is the title of a book of 200 pages published by Drs. Starkey & Palen, which gives to all inquirers full information as to this remarkable curative agent, and a record of surprising cures in a wide range of cases--many of them after being abandoned to die by other physicians. Will be mailed free to any address on application. Drs. STARKEY & PALEN,

1529 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa.

120 Sutter St., San Francisco, Cal.

Please mention this paper.

QUEEN AND PAUPER. I have gold a plenty, and rich adorning border all things to my wish, it seems. And yet I am but a creature mourning A broken life and vanished dreams. I have friends and lovers and kindred tender They watch and ward each hair of my head. And yet in the midst of all my splendor I envy a woman who bake for bread. That beggar who walks with her rosy baby Clasped tight in arms that are worn and lean She [?] comfort and wealth, it may be Yet I am a pauper and she is a queen. --Ruth Hall in Good Housekeeping.

THE QUICKSAND.

Stoner had been a Texan ranger and could hold his own extremely well in that rough frontier country. He had carried off a pretty Spanish wife from the Chihuahua region years before, had brought her to the rocky Californian coast and had purchased a settler's claim and an old adobe house built by a Spanish hidalgo half a century ago.

Here he farmed, raised cattle on the unused government lands and kept a sort of rude hotel, for several mountain trails joined at that point the broad highway which led from the county seat, 20 miles south, to the northern settlements in the pineries. He had five daughters, too, the youngest Theresa, known as Tessa, a girl of 17. That added to the attraction, and almost every night the dark eyed, half Spanish girls sang and danced, and old Stoner managed to hear all the news that was afloat, and somehow most of the loose coin of the region ultimately found its way into his pocket. He was a deep one, that same Ephraim Stoner, quiet, sly and patient, secret in his methods and deadly in his blow.

Stoner's wife and his four elder daughters were uneducated and in complete subjection to his will, but Tessa had more brains and energy than all the others put together and quite as much beauty, so that the old Texan ranger took a certain pride in her and had even allowed her to attend a distant school for two years. This midnight, when, as I have said, the story begins, a person of a prying disposition might have discovered several interesting performances in progress around the Stoner adobe. On the north side of the house, quite in the shadow, Tessa was leaning from her window, conversing in low tones with a blond, fair haired and sturdy young man on horseback. "Tom, you do not know my father. he is not the careless, warm hearted man you suppose. I must admire his ability, but that is all. I warn you, Tom, there never was a more dangerous man. He may be where he hears every word you say but if he is he will not speak to you or me about it, but if he knew you cared for me he would be your enemy. He has other plans for

me. He wants me to marry for money."

Tom Warren had once been the school-

teacher in the mountain district, miles away, where Tessa had been one of his pupils. Thrown upon his own resources from his childhood, he had developed a strong, earnest character and was already so popular in the county that he had just been elected sheriff, although the youngest man on the ticket. While Tessa and her lover were talking a scene of a far different nature was being enacted on the south side of the old adobe, which overlooked a deep ravine and a camp of five or six men in a field below. For several years these men had spent their summers there, ostensibly hunting, fishing and exploring the country with their dogs and guns. Every one knew them, and most persons liked them. Tessa did not. Stoner, though it was midnight, sat in the moonlight on an old rawhide chair, outside the door, smoking his pipe and meditating--a tough, sinewy, grizzled night owl of a man. "That infernal knuckle head at the camp ought to have reported before now," he thought to himself as he

smoked.

A man came out of the brush and spoke deferentially: "Capt'n, good evenin!"

"You're late."

"Dick was shot."

"Well?"

"Just as the driver throwed off the box. Shot by a passenger in the neck and shoulder."

"He mustn't stay here to get us into trouble. Take a boat and carry him to the point and leave him in the cave there." "Yes, capt'n." "How much was aboard?" "About $2,000 for the Josephine miners." "Send it over the cliff before morning, and I'll divide it up soon, but you be extra careful. That new sheriff is a smart case." "All right, capt'n," and the man went back to the camp. A moment later, just as Stoner was going back into the house, there was the slow thud of a horse's hoofs, and Tom Warren, the young sheriff, rode down the trail, around the corner of the old adobe building into the main country road that lay to the west. He had at last yielded to Tessa's entreaties to "go, go, this minute, Tom." Impassible as Stoner was, he felt a little startled by the sight. "Where in the devil did you come from, sheriff? Anything up in this part of the country?" "Oh, no, not a particle. I've been visiting my old school in the mountains and took the short trail home, down Corners." This was plausible enough, for there was a blind trail that entered the canyon just east of the angle of the house. Stoner felt a little relieved.

"Won't you put up and stay with us all night?" "No, Mr. Stoner. I must go down to Kestral to see friends there. It's only an hour's ride." "That settles it," thought Stoner. "Plenty of stout fellows to use as sheriff's deputies there. He has probably stumbled on traces and is going for help." He sat and smoked and slipped his hand back under his coat. "Easy to shoot the fellow," he said to himself.

"Well, goodby, Stoner," said Warren suddenly. "I suppose the beach road is as good as ever?"

"Perfectly safe, only when you cross Toro creek keep on the sand bar. It's as hard as iron. I crossed there today." "Thank you. Adios!"

Simple, smiling speech, these words of Stoner's, and yet they were intended to send Warren to his death more surely and safely than by bullet of pistol or pellet of secret poison.

Stoner took an extra swig of brandy and went to his rest. Warren rode down the rugged hill to the bottom of the ravine, then turned seaward, and at last

the wide gulch opened broadly to the

shore of the Pacific.

The cliffs were from 50 to 300 feet

high and full of waveworn caves. Warren drew rein on the beach, and for fully ten minutes watched the ocean sway and rise. His thoughts throbbed with dreams of Tessa. He would take her away from her narrow and hurtful

surroundings. He would lift her into happier and better circumstances. He would force Stoner's consent, marry her and make her happy. He rode rapidly south, and in half an hour the mouth of the Toro appeared,

in the midst of sand dunes, breakers

rolling in and the steady river flowing out. Here was the long sand bar, ten feet wide and stretching across hardly an

inch higher than the watery surface.

Warren was beginning to have some suspicions of Stoner, but not such as to lead him to doubt the simple directions he had received. The sand bar looked safe, but within a few days the sea, as Stoner knew, had swept it mightily,

torn out the long compacted bar and placed instead a quivering mass of

quicksand, so treacherous that not even a light footed rabbit could cross with-

out being swallowed up and dragged bodily down. Warren rode swiftly forward. He had crossed sand bars hundreds of times. Some horses would have been wiser, but the animal he rode had

been bred in the valley.

The approach to the bar was hard for a few rods as he galloped on. Suddenly, in one heartbreaking, breathless descent, noiseless, but unutterably dreadful, Tom Warren's horse went down, down, and the soft, slimy sand came up to his mane. He shrieked out that ghastly cry of appeal and agony that a desperate, dying horse will sometimes utter. Tom knew the peril. He had thrown his feet from the stirrups and drawn them up at the first downward throb, but the sand began to grasp him also. He threw himself flat on his breast and tore himself loose from the poor animal, over whose back the mingled sand and water were running, as it rolled from side to side in ineffectual struggles to

escape.

Tom spread himself out over as much surface as possible, but slowly, resistlessly, the mighty force drew him downward. The hard beach was only ten feet distant, but practically the chasm was impassible. He felt the horse sink out of sight. The sand gripped his own knees and arms, his thighs and shoulders. Two inches more, and the end by suffocation was inevitable. Up to this time he had not shouted. Only his horse's wild death scream had told of the tragedy. What was the use? Who would be passing along that lonely road? Then he thought of Tessa and of life. He raised his voice in a clear, strong shout for help, again and again repeated. Far off along the deep ravine came a cry in response and a horse's hurrying feet, and hope awoke in his heart. The margin of life was five minutes now--not longer. Faster, faster, oh, fearless

rider!

"Tom, where are you?" "Here, Tessa. Don't come too near." But the mountain girl knew the danger. Creeping down stairs for a drink of water, she had heard her father's words to Warren, had thrown a shawl about her shoulders and run to the pasture. Then she caught her pet horse, sprang upon his unsaddled back, seized a riata as she passed the stable and galloped at the utmost speed down the ravine, hoping against hope, for many minutes had necessarily elapsed since Warren

started.

She sprang to the ground and tossed the rawhide rope to the one arm he held

above the sand. She folded her shawl and put it over her horse's shoulders and tied the riata around like a collar. Then she led him slowly away from the quicksands, and Warren thought his arm

would break, but slowly, reluctantly, painfully, the sand gave up its prey.

"Your father told me to take this road, Tessa," said the young sheriff.

"Yes, I know that, and I heard one of the men tell him today that the bar was swept out." There was a long silence between them. "Tessa, go with me to San Luis," said Warren, "and let us be married." And Tessa went. Old Stoner heard the news a few days later. Within an hour he had "retired from business." The camp was broken up, the hunters disappeared, mysterious lights flashed at intervals all night from the points of the cliff, and the next day old Stoner himself disappeared, leaving his family, the ranch and the live stock. It was said that he made the best of his way to Mexico, and finally to South America. The world is large as yet, and men who have money can ramble over a good deal of it without finding a past they wish to escape from. But Tessa lives in her San Luis Ohispo cottage, with orange trees over it, and La Marque roses on the porch, and she thinks herself the happiest woman in California.--Belford's Magazine.

THE BRANDED BABY. San Francisco's Doctor Tried For Marking a Foundling and Acquitted.

Dr. H. N. Griffith of 1050 McAllister street, who branded a baby on the 11th of December, has been tried for cruelty to a child and acquitted. The circumstances of the case are still fresh in the mind of the public. Dr. Griffith, after marking the infant on the thigh with the letter M and a bar below the letter, sent it to the receiving hospital in charge of Daniel McCloskey, a messenger boy. He freely acknowledged that he had marked the baby so that in some future time the mother could identify her offspring. At the trial in police court No. 2 Dr. Griffith did not appear at his ease. When the accused took the stand in his own defense, the hundreds of spectators in the courthouse crowded forward so as not to lose a word of his testimony. With an effort he recovered his composure and stated that he had been a practicing physician since 1876. He does not believe that the mother of the baby, who was born on Oct. 1, is a married woman. "Who put that mark on the baby?" he was asked. Every one listened for his reply, which was given in a clear voice. "I placed the mark on the baby by pricking the skin with a cambric needle. Then I rubbed wet gunpowder over the surface, which was moistened by a few drops of blood. I was requested to mark the child by its mother, who was obliged to abandon it. She wanted to be able to identify it, so that if in the future she should be in a position to do so she might reclaim it. I went to a drug store to get some india ink for this purpose, but as there was none in the store I used common gunpowder instead. The child suffered no pain." Dr. Griffith then quoted a medical authority on the nerves of very young children. He said he gave the little thing whisky and water and sugar to deaden the pain should there be any. He denied that he had used either a hot iron or an acid and the operation he performed, he said, was

not so painful as a vaccination.

The witnesses added that he had an understanding with the baby's mother that she would give him money to be used for the little one's benefit in whatever foundling hospital it would find permanent lodging. In this respect the brand was to serve another purpose. In case the child died the people in the asylum could not draw the money by substituting some other baby. A relative of the baby was present when the tattooing was done. Dr. Griffith declined to answer any question bearing upon the relatives of the baby, and the court

did not insist upon them.

Mrs. Amelia Griffith, mother of the accused and principal of the Golden Gate primary school, testified to having furnished the cambric needle and being in an adjoining room while the baby

was being tattooed.

The jury was out only five minutes and returned a verdict of not guilty. Dr. Griffith's friends applauded, and the baby brander heaved a great sigh of relief, and went away.--San Francisco

Chronicle.

Why He Couldn't Hear It Tick.

A very pompous army surgeon was

sent to a recruiting depot in England to

examine a number of lads who had taken the queen's shilling. The abrupt, overbearing manner of the doctor so frightened one nervous recruit that he was unable to answer the first question as to

his name and place of birth.

"Why don't you answer?" roared the doctor. "What's your name, I say!" Still the panic stricken lad only stared

at the questioner.

"Why, I believe the fellow is stone deaf!" exclaimed the doctor, and taking out his watch he held it to the left ear of the recruit, saying, "Can you hear the ticking?"

The youth shook his head.

The watch was applied to the other ear, with the same effect, and then the doctor began to shower his indignation on the head of the future soldier. "What do you mean by recruiting when you're stone deaf? Why, you can't even hear the ticking of a watch when it is held within an inch of your ear!" Then the worm turned. "Yah, yah! She no' goin!" retorted the badgered boy.

When the doctor held the watch to his own ear and found that it had indeed stopped, his feelings were too powerful to be expressed.--London Tit-Bits.

[?] "Solitude."

Here is an extract from the [?] of a hotel in Switzerland, published in a newspaper at [?]: "[?] the [?] is the favorite place of resort for those who [?] solitude. Persons in search of [?], in fact, [?[ from the [?].